


When I Mark You

by DarkDreamsOfHannigram



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Branding, Established Relationship, JustFuckMeUp, M/M, Medical Kink, Medical Procedures, Oral Sex, Post Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 06:17:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7156922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDreamsOfHannigram/pseuds/DarkDreamsOfHannigram
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal leaves his mark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Mark You

**Author's Note:**

> A little thing for Just Fuck Me Up featuring something that I've never written before.

_Victorian Dentists’ Chairs. Of course_ , thought Will. _That’s obviously the first thing he’d start collecting_.

They’d been in their new place, long after the fall, for three years now, and Hannibal felt secure enough to start finding strange medical objects to fulfil his need to have expensive, obscure things around the house. Will wasn’t about to try to understand this need on purpose, but there was of course the inconvenient fact of him being able to see the things through Hannibal’s eyes.

And that gave him ideas. Ones he suspected Hannibal knew would inevitably occur. Especially when he brought home something different, and decidedly _not_ antique one day.

“Why do you need that…?”

“In case of injury. Or any number of conditions. It is necessary to have a range of surgical equipment on hand, such that we could avoid seeking medical attention unless it was absolutely necessary.”

“I couldn’t use that on you. Not after what happened with Mason.”

“If I were to have a wound that requires cauterization, and I could not reach the area myself, I would show you how to use it. Surely you could bring yourself to, if I truly needed it.”

Will looked at the contents inside the box. Wires, dials, and a wand with various points and shapes.

“What is it called?”

“A thermal cautery unit. At times, stitches are insufficient to stop bleeding, especially with invasive surgery. Which I would not expect you to perform,” he added, after seeing the look of panic cross Will’s face. “But it can also treat minor dermatological conditions which may arise. A hepatic hemangioma for example. If they occur on the skin, the only way to start the healing process is cauterization.”

“I wish you’d just stuck with the dentist chairs.”

Hannibal smiled.

. . . . .

Later that night, Will couldn’t get the idea out of his head that he may be called upon to essentially _brand_ Hannibal, as Mason Verger once had done. It was unlikely to ever happen, but the concept made him almost sick. He had no idea what that would be like. He’d been shot, stabbed, had broken bones, but somehow the idea of charring flesh seemed even worse than all of those. He’d never been seriously burned. Not really a hazard of his hobbies; he was more likely to get a fish hook accidentally driven through his thumb, and boat motors were left to cool long before they were tinkered with.

The only way he could ever do it to Hannibal is if he experienced it himself. Conveniently, they had a few pieces of furniture that could be rigged to strap him down. These thoughts filled his mind as he drifted off to sleep, and he had fitful dreams filled with fractured images of restraints and flames.

. . . . .

“You’re sure this is the only way you’d feel capable of treating me?” Hannibal asked.

“I don’t see any other way,” Will admitted reluctantly.

“You will have to allow me to direct the course of action.”

“Don’t trust me to figure these things out for myself?” Will asked, smirking.

“On the contrary. You have already set things in motion. Only the details remain.”

Hannibal brought out the cauterization machine, and showed the modifications he had made to Will. He ran his fingers carefully over the controls.

“As the scarification will be permanent, I thought it would be more interesting to leave you with something better than what I have. The brand on my back, because it was quite large and meant for a pig’s thicker skin, has fortunately faded in its detail. As you have seen,” Hannibal added, referencing the many times Will had been behind him in intimate situations. The branding scar had healed into an indistinct circle, which Will was grateful for. The Verger family crest was not something he cared to stare at during those times.

Will looked at the newly-altered tip of the device, and smiled.

“When?” Will asked.

“Now, I thought.”

He led Will to the room where he’d set up one of the chairs, cushioned with red velvet, its metal segments accented with mahogany. Hannibal had modified this as well, careful to make the changes reversible so as not to infringe upon the historical accuracy of the piece. He’d fitted the arms and foot rest with restraints, their cuffs a wide, soft leather that matched the upholstery.

Will noticed that Hannibal was wearing clothes similar to those he’d had on when they’d watched each other, so many years ago, Hannibal inside an ambulance saving the life of a man whose kidney had been inexpertly removed by a man once mistaken for the Chesapeake Ripper, and Will outside watching him with stirring, dark interest. He’d now rolled up his sleeves, and the memory came flooding back.

Swallowing hard, Will asked, “How do you want me? I mean…where will you do it?”

“Where will I do what?” Hannibal asked coyly, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear Will say it.

“Where…where will you mark me?”

“Just above your pelvic bone, on the left. You’ll be able to see it there. Much better than your back.”

A mixture of fear and desire coursed through Will’s body, and he felt his heart pounding and his face flushing as he undressed. By the time he laid on the table, he was half-hard; when Hannibal had finished fastening the cuffs, he was fully so.

“How long will it take?” Will asked, voice breathless and shaking. He focused on Hannibal’s strong forearms to ground him in reality.

“The mark? Only seconds. I will apply an antiseptic gel and bandage right away. It will take about a month to completely heal.” He observed Will’s trembling, and laid a hand on his chest, over his fluttering heart.

Clinically, diagnostically, Hannibal said, “I will want you calmer than this. Relaxed. It will not do to have your adrenaline at such a raised level.”

He ran his hand down Will’s abdomen.

“Breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth.”

Will did as told, and felt himself easing off, but only but a mere fraction compared to his anxiety.

He watched as Hannibal switched the machine on.

“It will be ready in a few minutes. Until then, I believe it is necessary for you if I relaxed you further.”

Hannibal drew up a chair, and sat beside Will’s strapped down body.

“I think it would be best if you put your head back, and closed your eyes. You will not see it when I mark you, and if I can get you to think of something else in the meantime…”

Will nodded, and pushed his shoulders back into the chair. Just as he closed his eyes, he felt Hannibal’s mouth close around his cock, and his lips parted in a relieved sigh.

He began slowly at first, working his tongue over the head and into the slit, after he’d pushed back the foreskin. Will’s was so much less tight than his, and Hannibal particularly enjoyed using his lips to play with it. He languidly eased it back up and down again a few times, before incrementally taking Will’s entire length far down into his throat. The restraints made it possible for Will to buck his hips, but only by a few inches. When Hannibal felt Will starting to rock upwards, he backed off and started all over again, only stopping to tongue at the slick drops of precum that his efforts rewarded him.

The timing was perfect. The device was ready, and Will was close. Will wasn’t moving anymore, just pushing as hard as Hannibal could take at the back of his throat. As he began to cum, his moans turned into a strangled gasp as Hannibal touched the cauterization tip to Will’s flesh. It was all over in two heartbeats.

Hannibal drew back, to inspect his work. Will’s body was limp, red flushed and wet with perspiration from head to thighs. He still hadn’t managed to open his eyes yet.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his left hand, Hannibal used his right to bandage the red mark, in the perfect, small form of a capital _H_.

 

 

 


End file.
